


A Case of Mistaken Identity

by pandapresident



Category: Rune Factory 4
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 15:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3254852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandapresident/pseuds/pandapresident
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doug, Dylas and Forte think mistletoe has red berries and Illuminata thinks that there has been a murder. All of them are wrong. Written for indigowallbreaker on tumblr for the RF Secret Santa 2014!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Case of Mistaken Identity

“It's here!” Porcoline announced, lifting an enormous box above his head. “Christmas joy is here!”

Dylas didn't know or care what that meant. He was busy wiping down the tables. Actually, the tables had mostly been wiped down already, but one seat was still occupied. Unfortunately, its occupant was taking delight in eating messily today.

“Quit spilling your damn curry!” Dylas yelled at Doug, wiping the table for the thousandth time that day. “I'm sick of cleaning up after you!”

Doug sniggered. “Hey, serves you right for trying to rush me before.”

“You have no room to talk about other people's messes, Dylas!” Meg scolded. “Porco, what have you got there?”

“Allow me to show you!” Porcoline opened the top of the box. “Porco-spiiiiiin!”

Giant plant trimmings flew out and landed haphazardly over the restaurant and its occupants. Forte drew her sword and diced the vegetation that came in her and Meg's direction, but Dylas and Doug were less fortunate. Porcoline whizzed out of the door, presumably to spread festive plant matter elsewhere in town. Dylas lifted the giant plant up. His heart sunk. He remembered what festive berried plants meant. 

“Shit,” Doug said, his mouth full of curry rice. He swallowed hard. “Mistletoe?”

They stared at each other. Meg coughed.

“Actually,” she began, but she was cut off by Forte screaming. 

“Some got caught in the rafters above us!” she said, clutching Meg's arm. “I should have just used my shield!”

Dylas ducked down. Doug's soft hair tickled against his cheek as he pressed his lips briefly against Doug's forehead. He spun around, Doug's face a pinkish blur in his peripheral vision, and pretended to busy himself with wiping down the already gleaming counters.

“Erm,” Meg said, her voice faltering. “Whoa!”

Dylas looked over just in time to see Forte pulling back. Both of them were blushing now. Meg was clutching her cheek.

“But you guys,” Meg wailed, clutching her lute to her chest, “Mistletoe has white berries!”

“What,” Dylas said. There was no question in his voice. He was too much in denial for that.

“What?!” Forte shrieked. 

“Oh yeaaaah,” Doug said. Dylas deliberately didn't face him. “And it's not spiky like this, is it?”

“Then – what,” Forte said, pointing her sword at the plants, “What is that?”

The door burst open. Illuminata strode inside in what she clearly thought was the most detective-like manner, with wide strides and much puffing on a smokeless pipe.

“Where's the body?” she cried, lifting the tablecloth. 

“Body?” Dylas repeated. 

“There's no body!” said Meg. 

“Don't lie!” Illuminata yelled. “I heard the unmistakable scream of someone being murdered!”

She spotted the plants strewn about the place. Her eyes lit up. She swept pieces of it up in her arms. “And here's the murder weapon!”

“It was pretty spiky,” Doug said. Dylas heard the scraping of a spoon against the plate. “But I don't think it could kill someone.”

“And that's why you're not a detective,” Illuminata said.

“Lumie, no-one was murdered!” Meg said. 

“Then explain the scream!”

“Ah,” Meg said, tapping the back of her heel with her foot, “There was a case of mistaken identity.”

“I must go now,” Forte said, speeding towards the door. Illuminata intercepted her.

“No suspects leaving the – ah!”

She was cut off by Forte bowling her over with a twist of her arm. The suspect successfully left. Illuminata rubbed her sore shins and stood up. 

“Very suspicious,” she muttered.

“No,” Dylas said. All eyes turned to him. “This plant is definitely mistletoe.”

“What? No, it's not,” Illuminata said, shaking her head. “That's not even a rookie mistake. That's, like, a baby level mistake.”

“You're wrong!” Dylas roared. He was starting to doubt himself now, given that if Illuminata could be relied upon to know anything, it was probably plants. “That is definitely the plant that you see as decoration around Christmas! So it's mistletoe.”

“Whaaaat?” Illuminata said, tilting her head back and laughing. “Man, you better learn your plants better before you end up smooching someone you shouldn't!”

“Yeah, Dylas,” Doug said through another mouthful of food. “Imagine what that would be like!”

“That would be hilarious!” Illuminata turned to Meg. “There's really no murder?”

“Don't sound so disappointed about that!” Meg said, wagging a finger at her. “No murder is a good thing!”

“Yeah, for some people, I guess,” Illuminata muttered. She shrugged. “Well, I'm confiscating this evidence.”

“What for?” Doug asked. “There was no murder.”

“Yeah, but I want to see if other people are as gullible as Dylas! Maybe I can force some unnecessary kisses out of people.”

She strode out. Her maniacal laughter gradually drifted out of Dylas's range of hearing. Meg shuddered. 

“I'm going to warn people,” she said, swinging her instrument on to her back. “Dylas, are you okay to finish closing up by yourself?”

“Hey, what am I?” Doug asked, indignantly.

“A customer,” Meg reminded him.

“I'll be fine,” Dylas muttered. He didn't really want to be left alone with Doug right now, not after all that, but he couldn't tell Meg that without Doug hearing too and that would be even worse. He watched Meg depart.

Dylas jumped as Doug dropped his plate on the counter right behind him. He hadn't heard him come up. He looked over at Doug, expecting some smart remark about what had gone down, but Doug was frowning intently something a little above Dylas's eye-line.

“What?” Dylas asked, glancing behind him. 

“Duck down a bit,” Doug said, stepping behind the counter.

“Why should I?”

“Because you've got something in your hair and I'm trying to help you out, dumbass,” Doug said, tugging on Dylas's arm to pull him down. 

“Oh,” Dylas said. He tilted his head down, guided by Doug's hands. Something was lifted from his head. Doug froze. “What is it?”

“You're not going to believe it,” Doug said.

“Why?” Dylas said. His tail swished anxiously. “Do I want to go scrub my hair a hundred times or something?”

“It's not like that,” Doug said, his voice flat.

“Then what is it?” Dylas said. He could technically straighten up and see for himself, but he wasn't sure he wanted to.

Doug took a deep breath. Dylas wished he would just hurry up and tell him or get rid of it and destroy it so Dylas would never have to know what was lurking in his hair. 

“Hey, at least you're at a handy height for it,” Doug finally said. His tone was joking but Dylas didn't know what Doug was joking about, not until Doug's mouth met his. He hadn't thought that Doug's lips would be that soft. The moment broke as Doug slammed the offending plant down on the counter.

“See?” he said, backing away. “That time it was definitely mistletoe!”

“Oh!” Dylas said. He finally put together the information. “Oh.”

“So I'm leaving now,” Doug said, stepping back towards the door. 

“Okay,” Dylas said, nodding. Doug hovered beside the door.

“This is me leaving,” he said. “By the way, I'm working tomorrow.”

Dylas smirked. “Great. I'll move all the stock out of your reach.”

“You better not!” Doug yelled. 

“Yep, that's what I'm going to do tomorrow,” Dylas said. 

“Yeah, well, be there before eleven,” Doug muttered. “It's really slow before then and I get bored.”

“Got it.”

“Good,” Doug said, grinning. “See you!”

Dylas glanced around after Doug left, checking that he was truly alone. Arthur and Porcoline had terrifying knacks of appearing without warning. Satisfied that no-one was watching him, Dylas pocketed the mistletoe. Maybe he could find a use for it, say, tomorrow. Before eleven, when it was really slow in the general store.

After he'd moved all the stock around to annoy Doug, of course.


End file.
